Motorcycle scene

Meredith’s POV:

I smile, assuming that I had all these under control. Conrad is carrying a set of keys that doesn’t look like they are car keys at all and I look him up and down quizzically. He’s not in a suit and I don’t see a car parked outside other than mine.

“You’ll need a warm jacket; we’re taking my bike.” He pulls a jacket and from nowhere and zips it up while nodding towards my room, and I stare at him.

“Excuse me, your what?” My jaw drops open, and my insides instantly flutter and die. Fear clearly evident on my face with widening eyes and a startled expression. I hope to God he doesn’t mean a traditional bile that requires pedaling because I am out the moment he says yes.

Conrad stares back at me. “My bike … motorbike. I have a very nice one, and it’s handy for small streets and casual dates.” He grins and throws me that irritating wink before turning me and giving me a gentle shove to my room, dismissing the look of horror on my face and being a little pushy in the process. Dixon was standing in the kitchen counter sipping on some juice and looking somewhat pleased. “Oh, and maybe take your hair down; the helmet will only fuck it up and make it uncomfortable to wear.”

“Helmet?”

“Well, you could go without, but brain smear on the sidewalk isn’t a good look if we crash.”

“Oh, my God!” I swear he is trying to terrify me, and I’m frozen to the spot, gawping like a fool. “I am not going out with you!”

“Meredith, do you seriously have zero faith in me? I wouldn’t take my bike if I thought I would end up killing you. Now move.” He shoves me again, and this time, I trip over my doorway and half jog inside to grab whatever coat seems to have the most padding. Clumsy but distracted and thinking only of skidding along the road to certain death and leaving the imprint of my face on the concrete. I try to shake that visual out of my head, but my hands are already clammy, and my heart bursts out of my ribcage. I’m not sure I want to get on a motorcycle. I’ve never sat on one in my life and didn’t even know he owned one, let alone rode them.

“Hurry up, Meredith.”

“Okay! Okay!”

“That looks okay-ish.” He said with a grin.

“You are like … an accomplished biker, right?” I stammer as I come back out, sounding like a total wimp.

“Very.” He ignores the apparent fear in my voice, catches me by the hand firmly and pulls me with him. Not waiting to check if hand holding is something we are doing and yanking me like a disobedient younger sibling who won’t do as they are told. Seems he thinks it is as he laces his fingers through mine securely so I can’t escape him, and I’m pulled with him at a brisk pace that gets a glare thrown at the back of his head.

“Bye! Have fun!” Dixon yelled.

“Wait. I don’t have my bag or my phone. I don’t have keys or money or anything.” I stop and almost fell over.

“You don’t need anything, just you. I got this.” I get a warm smile thrown back at me, and I’m once again hauled behind him, rather aggressively for a guy attempting charm and adoration. I try to wriggle my hand free, but he holds on tighter and flashes me that look of his that says, ‘keep trying, I’m not letting go’.

So much for a romantic date, huh?

“You know this isn’t exactly how people date.” I point out blandly.

“Well, yesterday we were sparring, so I’m guessing it’s not really a step too far.”

I get that cheeky arrogant smirk, and I slap him in the shoulder impulsively. “True but still!”

“Look, I’m expecting sex to be a no-go, so we do this date my way. FYI. This is the first time I am dating someone the unconventional way. I usually go all out but you said no sex.”

“When did this become a negotiation?” I point out harshly.

“You ask too many questions. No wonder you don’t go out on dates. I think that pretty much neutralizes that arrangement.” He shrugs again, in a manly, smug maneuver, and I wonder why I tolerate this man; he truly is a shit.

“Is this your idea of wooing me? Not very romantic, are you!”

“Are we going to fuck after?”

He finally trails his eyes up and down my outfit, although no visible facial expressions to tell if he still thinks I’m fuckable like this. Not that I care—much. How did our casual relationship turn to this?

“No.”

“Fine. Then no complaining.” He sounds deadly serious. I actually believe him.

I smile at that, really seeing the funny in those words coming out of that mouth. Who knew that was a term he had in his verbal brain bank. “I think I just died a little inside.”

“Shut up.”

Conrad yanks me to him bodily by my upper arm and plants a kiss on me that stops everything. I like him in suit and prim and proper but being sparring partners changed all that. I saw the other side of him and now I wonder how much of it I’ve seen or yet to see.

A full-on lip to lip meeting with passion and perfection, he kisses me properly. Like the one I see I movies. I’m utterly powerless to him and my legs give way. His body is stiff against mine, and all I can do is surrender and struggle to stay in control as everything swirls deliciously. He kisses me dizzy and leaves me breathless.

Like a weak fool, my lips part and I I kiss him back.

Conrad kisses me until the sound of someone clearing their throat loudly attracts his attention, and he stops to look back over his shoulder, grinning wickedly. I curse him under my breath.

He lets me go, captures my hand as his prisoner once more and pulls me with him and I saw Dixon, red in the face. I will have to explain myself later by the look in his face.

“N-nice bike,” he cleared his throat again, “have a nice evening, you two. Text me whenever you are not busy, okay?”

“O-okay.” My face instantly heats, no doubt blushing from my roots to my toes. I avoid eye contact.

Damn it. I’m not doing an outstanding job of holding my own against Conrad Knight.

It’s already dark and the air is crisp and biting cold, another hint of an impending snow spell. I follow him carefully to the road.

My breath catches in my throat, instant panic when standing in the side of the road, I see he wasn’t lying at all. A substantial black motorcycle beast is perched on a kickstand and shining in the light of the car park’s lamps. It’s almost sparkling with how glossy all the black paintwork and shiny chrome is. Two helmets perched on the long seat. An intimidating beast of a machine that screams of power and speed, and the last of my blood drains to my feet as cold fear grips me. Nausea swirls back to the front of my stomach, and I tremble internally.

“I’m not sure about this.” I blurt out impulsively, digging my heels in and not wanting to go any further, terror strangling me.

“Trust me. I won’t let anything happen to you, and I will drive very carefully and slowly. I swear.” As he yanks me to him.

“Stop doing that!” I bark and slap his hand around mine. It’s annoying me the way he keeps dragging me around.

“And the kissing thing needs to … you know … stop!”

“Come on. You didn’t exactly hate it.” He tries for a smile and a pull towards him, but I put my hand up to stop what I suspect is another swoop in to silence me with another.

“I said stop. No kisses.”

“It’s hard not to want to kiss you.”

“Well, back off, or I’ll walk out.”

“Sorry. I’m used to things going my way. Getting what I want … I’m sorry. I’ll back off.” He moves back a little bit, and the look on his face barely conceals a hint of boyish hurt.

I sigh a little when he dismisses me with a frown and pulls the smaller of the two helmets off the seat instead. Avoiding an answer, I can tell by the change in his cocky manner that something filtered through. There’s an immediate calming of his energy.

“Need me to put it on you?”

“Why can’t we take your car?” I’m desperate to avoid getting on this death machine, and I don’t get why he wants to use this. It does not impress me at all. I was never one of those girls who liked to have terrifying speed contraptions between her thighs. Well, unless it’s six inches and takes batteries. That’s different.

“I’m taking you somewhere that doesn’t have car access. It’s too narrow and no parking for four wheels. I can get this baby right to the door and park it on the path.”

“Where exactly is that?” I ask after letting him get it over my face.

“It’s a surprise. You’ll find out when you get there.”

“I don’t like surprises. I hate not knowing what’s coming.” That’s kind of normal for a life spent running and hiding and looking over your shoulder.

“Explaining would take longer than getting there and seeing for yourself. I will cook.”

“Hang on, you said there’s no parking and that means it’s secluded …” I don’t get a chance to argue or say no because he slides my visor down over my face and thumps the helmet on top of my head to make sure it’s on securely and almost knocks me senseless with his heavy-handed thud. I gag on an ‘ouch’ because of the stupid hair bulge on my head and try not to show him that was bloody sore.

“Again, you talk too much. Hold tight.”

“Hold what?”

“Hold tight to me!”

He revs and I hugged him like my life depended on